


Things that shouldn't be

by shittershutter



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittershutter/pseuds/shittershutter
Summary: Diego can't really breathe under the full weight but Luther will notice soon enough and take care of it. What he won't notice is all the blood rushing to the smaller man's head. Not right away. Not before Diego is done observing his own world upside down -- the door, Luther's giant coat hanging next to it, a few of the knives sticking out of the ugly wallpaper.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Things that shouldn't be

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little sad. But just a little bit.

Diego's head hangs from the bed while the rest of him is still on it, pressed down tightly by the bigger body on top. 

He can't really breathe under the full weight but Luther will notice soon enough and take care of it. What he won't notice is all the blood rushing to the smaller man's head. Not right away. Not before Diego is done observing his own world upside down -- the door, Luther's giant coat hanging next to it, a couple of knives sticking out of the ugly wallpaper. 

It's yellow and green, the wallpaper is, but it slowly starts getting a pinkish tint as Diego keeps hanging, enjoying this new perspective of how things shouldn't be. 

Luther picks up on the lack of motion under him and pushes up, ruining this perfect helpless state for the smaller man as his ribs expand instinctively to let some air in. 

"You good?" Luther asks, breathless, and distant. 

Diego intends to grace him with a short "uh-huh" to stay inside his upside-down world for a bit longer but it ends up being a much more desperate sound as the bigger man takes his hips and pulls him onto himself. And he doesn't stop pulling until he is fully inside. 

Diego's out of breath again just like that -- Luther is, too, -- sitting motionlessly, admiring the view of their bodies joined together. Through the roar of blood in his ears and the man's gasping breaths, he can hear a soft hissing sound or Luther's hands stroking his thighs. 

He hears it instead of feeling it because his head is getting heavier by the minute making his vision go from the cute pink to the angry red. Making his skin tingle regardless of whether the man is caressing it or not. 

In his upside-down world, the ugly wallpaper changes to a richer, more intricate pattern. Yellow turns to gold, grass green - to emerald green until it perfectly mimics the walls of Reginald's study.

The room where Diego gets yelled at for getting hard during a wrestling training with Luther. With his shoulders pinned to the mat, his thighs thrown apart, and Luther's hot breaths in his face, his body reacts in a way his brain can't fully understand yet. 

He gets a horrifically realistic sex education brochure out of it, with all the people drawn without skin to give a more accurate representation of the anatomical process behind it. Muscle tissue, sinew, bones, and all. None of the couples have matching genitals, that fact is not lost on Diego. 

He's still staring down at his legs in knee-high socks when Reginald tells him that if some things can happen it doesn't mean they should. They leave it at that and Luther who never even notices anything in the first place, is never a part of the conversation.

Diego comes back to it after he starts sliding down to the floor. Relaxed (or paralyzed rather), he slips, digging his heel awkwardly into the mattress to stop the momentum. It makes Luther slip out of him and the pain of separation is somehow worse than the pain of Luther taking him. It feels different, the fiery burn of it aside, it echoes underneath the ribs. 

The insides of his thighs are wet where the lubed up, leaking head of Luther's cock bumps against them. It only adds to the illusion of him feeling boneless, limbless, reaching a liquid form as he slips between Luther's fingers until the top of his head hits the floor.

He freezes in perfect balance, one leg still hooked around Luther's hip, lightheaded and weightless. Like a feather. 

"Where are you going?" The man snorts. It sounds sad despite the genuine amusement underneath.

His fingers squeeze Diego's waist the way he likes it, hard. The way that leaves white marks on his skin that immediately turn red as the blood rushes in, then blue if Diego's lucky. If he can make the big guy forget himself for a moment. 

He's yanked upright and into Luther's lap as the man kneels and sits on his haunches to give him more space to nestle comfortably, to slot against the bigger body. 

Diego's spatial awareness goes to shit from hanging upside down. He revels in that momentary feeling of weightless nausea when nothing depends on him, nothing - his body included - is under his control. 

It ends with him taking a wild guess and pressing his mouth against what turns out to be Luther's jaw. It's good enough. The mouth is nearby and it's hot and hungry against his own. 

"Be a gentleman, number one, help me out..." Diego grunts pushing himself away for a moment. He takes a few ragged breaths that do nothing to clear his head. It's like Luther's giant heart that drums heavily against his open palm shatters the remains of his balance, his entire arsenal of clever remarks, his ability to open his eyes.

He'd communicate the last point to Luther by drumming it in morse code against his chest because his face is yanked upright and he knows the big guy expects to get an eye-contact, whatever version of it Diego can muster. He doesn't remember the morse code at the moment, digging his fingers into Luther's chest instead, furrowing his eyebrows to get the point across. 

Luther won't have any of it, waiting. His ability to operate his brain with so much blood required for the cock - a temporarily neglected weapon of destruction that is pressed against Diego's belly - is astonishing. Diego would seriously be astonished if he could be anything right now.

Soft lips press against his eyelids, the hand in his hair is smoothing the spikes of it against the skull and he knows full well nothing is happening until Luther gets what he wants. 

So Diego forces his eyes open. His vision is red at the edges, blurred spots of orange and yellow flash against it until Luther's stupid face comes into focus, concerned, with his jaw tight from holding himself together. 

"Please," Diego drawls, long and pathetic, to make sure he doesn't trip on the syllables. Then he wraps his hands against Luther's body and doesn't move at all. 

He can feel the groan, much longer than his plea, with a heavier bass to it, as it rumbles against their ribs pressed so close together. He can feel the hands taking him by the hips, the wet pulsating head of the man's cock pushing against him. 

The fingers press in first as if Diego's body was supposed to forget the fullness in those whole five minutes their bodies were apart. He clamps around them hard, half of it is hunger, half of it is spite just to show the big guy what he's missing out on with this nonsense. 

Luther is unfazed, though. He sounds almost calm when he tells him to relax; when he bites Diego's hairline for good measure for the message to get through. 

Diego can be a good boy on occasion so he does. With his cheek against Luther's heart and his arms tight against his shoulders, he hangs on as the man pushes inside him again, in this slow and careful but insistent motion that is neverending. 

He feels bigger, longer when he's inside. When Diego plays with him using his hands or the mouth, there is an illusion of him being almost manageable. Impressive and definitely something to brag about but still, within Diego's limits of comprehension. 

Now, the fucking is inhuman experience. Diego always chalks his aching chest (which shouldn't even be the part of him that is hurting the most) to the sheer physicality of it. It has nothing to do with the fact that he might or might not be in love with the entire guy attached to the end of that monstrosity inside him. 

Luther cradles his pelvis in his hands, firm with his motions, soft with his grip, as he fucks him with his full length. Up and down until Diego's hips and his throat unclench releasing all the shivers and the moans he's been holding. 

It doesn't take long. Never does when they truly relax and synchronize their movements against each other. Like they are not supposed to have this gentle sweetness at all. Like it's stolen, it's not theirs and it shouldn't be shared between them of all people. 

Diego nearly starts sobbing with how unfair it is. With his hips pushing down onto Luther's cock, then forward to rub himself against the man's stomach, trying to come and his blunt nails digging into his shoulders uselessly, trying to slow it down, to make it last. 

Luther takes his face in his hands before he comes and kisses him between his eyes, where those treacherous painful doubts live. Chasing them away for the time being.

Diego's left with covering those hands with his own as he feels the big guy come inside him. It takes him long, longer than Diego's entire release, and the shudders, and a good chunk of the afterglow, but the smaller man rides it out until he's done. Bounces in the man's lap gently until the tell-tale grunts of discomfort make him sit still. 

Then they stay like that, intertwined, for a while until the room stops spinning the world is again the way it should be.


End file.
